


Housewarming

by SegaBarrett



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, Ghost can come back to life if they eat their murderer, Ghosts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26461681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: On Margot's first night alone in her new house, she has a surprising guest.
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger (mentioned)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8
Collections: Jump Scare 2020





	Housewarming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inquisitor_tohru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own Hannibal, and I make no money from this.

Margot Verger realized, on the morning of the first day that Alana had gone away (to Stockholm, she thought it was, though maybe Athens or maybe she hadn’t actually mentioned it) that she was not used to the feeling of being alone.

The downside of being a twin, she mused, though she had never liked Mason being her shadow and following along after her, tormenting her. But even while Mason was gone (the electric eels had seen to that) his presence had remained for a while.

Yet now, Margot woke and she was alone, alone in her new big house purchased with the Verger fortune. With the blood money she had been kept from for so long.

She rose and walked around the house. She didn’t have horses here, not yet – maybe that was an idea, get back to riding, get back to letting the wind flow through her hair – but it was a spacious home, a home bathed in blue and gray.

It would be a nice, peaceful home, but it didn’t feel that way right now.

Because as Margot stepped down the stairs and into the sitting room and then back into the sunroom – such a thing, to have rooms called things like “sunroom”, she was suddenly taken by the feeling that perhaps she was not alone in the house at all.

There was an icy coolness in the room that competed with the warmth that should have been coming in through the picture window.  
Margot turned, sure that someone or something was behind her. Instead of a figure, however, she was left with only a voice, wispy and quiet and shuddering.

The voice seemed to be saying, “Help me.”

“Who’s there?” Margot called. She received no response, but couldn’t shake the feeling that there was someone here.

But that was silly. She didn’t believe in ghosts, after all – she had never had time to be afraid of something so obvious as that.

She turned back around and started to walk back to her bedroom. Perhaps she would rest, relax and read something. Think about something – anything – other than the one ghost who did haunt her, the way that Mason always seemed to be peeping at her windows even when she had the shades pulled down.

And then, as she reached the door and slid the glass open, she heard it again.

“Help me.”

It was in the air, it seemed, part of the atmosphere, and Margot whirled around all over again.

She had vowed she would never be afraid of anything again, but this was starting to try her limits.

“Show yourself,” Margot said, managing to say it without shaking, “Show yourself, if you want me to help you.”

A shadowy figure appeared, then, cloaked in smoke with only eyes poking through, brown eyes that looked like they could look on forever, look right through Margot and see every little thing about her that was and what would ever be.

She wondered if ghosts could see the future, along with the past and present.

A moment later, she could see a face in the mist, then slowly the curves surrounding it. Most of all, she could still see the eyes, sharpest and most damning of all. 

“You need to help me find him,” the voice whispered.

“Who are you?” Margot asked, as if that were the biggest question here out of all of them. 

“My name was Beverly. But now… it doesn’t really matter now, does it? There is only one way for that to matter again.”

Margot stepped forward. There was something intoxicating about the voice, something that drew her in. A siren, daring her to dash herself on the rocks, again.

“Beverly. That name sounds familiar. Why are you here, exactly, Beverly?”

Now she could see her, almost solid but not quite. She was hovering, and she was beautiful. Margot felt mildly guilty for admiring a ghost of all people while Alana was away, but Alana had once told her to look for the beauty in everything, so she imagined she would understand. 

“Because I think you are exactly the right person to help me find… a mutual friend.” Beverly was smiling now, a sardonic and impudent smile.

“I have a suspicion about what mutual friend you mean,” Margot replied. She felt cold, a little shaky. She had never gone looking for Hannibal, really – Hannibal had always found her, whether through Mason’s hand or not.

“Then you can help me. Or do you have some kind of allegiance to him that I should know about? He’s a pretty charming guy, after all.”

“A real charmer,” Margot echoed. Did she have an allegiance to Hannibal, for taking the blame for Mason’s death and adding it to his toll? No, that had been Alana’s boon. Margot had been ready to be rid of Mason no matter which form it had taken. She had considered how easy it might be to take his place, to act as Charlie commanding his Angels around Muskrat Farm and telling everyone in a distorted voice that Mason was sleeping. 

If she had been willing to do that, to sit at the helm of the Farm and pretend Mason was still alive for the rest of her days, she owed Hannibal not a thing.  
Maybe she owed Beverly something.

“You need him dead?” she inquired casually.

“No.” Beverly stepped forward and cupped Margot’s face in icy hands. “I need to eat him.”

***

“Margot, my dear. What a surprise your invitation was.” 

Margot smiled as she looked Hannibal up and down. He was dressed to the nines, of course. His beauty seemed never tarnished, even in the cruelest forms of it. 

“Well, it’s about time I host a dinner party,” Margot replied. “Come right on in.”

Hannibal looked around.

“Where is your darling wife?”

“She's away.”

“So you’re here all alone?” Hannibal inquired.

Beverly was close enough to touch his lapel.

“Not quite,” Margot replied. This was going to be quite the party.


End file.
